The Ways of Hurting
by AnkoStone
Summary: There are many ways of hurting oneself, and sometimes, Ravis thinks to explore them all.


66\. "You just can't do anything right."

"Hold still, Ravis."

The young boy bit his lip and closed his eyes as his cuts were wrapped up in white linen, hiding away the blood and bits of hanging skin that remained. It hadn't phased him to make the cuts, deep in alcohol and self pity, but with Toris in the room, sobering him up, everything hurt and burned, and he just wanted the pain to go away.

"I'm sorry." Ravis sobbed, his breath still reeking of straight vodka. The taste lingered in his mouth, and how he longed to be drinking another bottle, it would probably make everything seem less real. It always made life seem a bit more bearable, even when he knew that his world of intoxication was unreal.

Toris didn't respond to his tears, letting the Latvian know the older man was upset. Ravis could practically hear the thoughts that could be running through his roommates mind. 'We already suffer enough, why hurt yourself more? Why would you drink, knowing I would be left to deal with it? Why can't you just behave?'

He wished he knew how to behave.

Ravis went to wipe his eyes with his arm, but was stopped by Toris, slowly moving them back down to his sides.

"I just wrapped them, don't go dirtying them up." He warned, before carefully wiping the tears from the boy's face, his thumb drawing across his skin bringing a longed for comfort that Ravis craved anytime he cried. How he wished that Toris would just wrap his arms around him and whisper empty promises of a better day. Even though his younger years were not so long ago, the abuse and pain that Ravis went through was enough to make him feel old. His body aching, and his memories hard to control. And yet, at times like this, he felt small and fragile, and he wanted Toris to take care of it all.

But the man was angry, and Ravis couldn't afford to be selfish, not so soon.

"I'm sorry." He whispered again, the pressure on his wrists were even comforting in a sense. At least he wasn't left for dead yet. Toris still loved him enough to want him alive. That was something. That was anything.

Toris's eyes were hidden. Ravis couldn't see how angry or sad or hurt he was, Toris was so good at hiding his feelings, his only tell anymore was his forest eyes, and only Eduard and Ravis could read them from years and years of watching him. Ravis reached out to move Toris's hair, to lift up his face and see what he was feeling, but Toris flinched away, and guilt ate at the boy.

"I-I wasn't going to-"

"I know." Toris reassured, but Ravis wondered if he really did know. That he would never do anything to hurt the elder man. Not his drinking, or his hurting, or his teas were ever meant to harm or hinder anyone but himself. Ravis relished in self harm, but he couldn't stand the thought of Toris or Eduard hurting because of him.

"Don't be sad, please. Everything is fine." Ravis whispered, but Toris stood up. And it was a sudden reminder how much wiser and intimidating the Lithuanian could boy wished to curl up into himself and avoid whatever force made him rise, because it seemed like it was strong and fierce, two things he knew to fear.

But, without warning, a gentle hand was placed on Ravis's shoulder. He looked at it in confusion, unable to string together what all this could mean. If he didn't know better, he would flinch and retreat, the gesture often made by forces Ravis could not stop, but Toris was warm and inviting, and once he came to his senses, Ravis soaked in the kind gesture, and reminded himself hands could be kind too.

"Let's go to bed, Ravis." Toris said, and the boy wouldn't argue if he could. He stood up, before realizing all he had drank made the world spin, and suddenly he plopped back down in his seat, whining about the floor being much too far away. Making him reach his arms out towards Toris. His scared, aching arms, begging to be held again.

Toris sighed, but complied, lifting up the boy, who immediately clung to him, with the strength of a man who intended to never let go.


End file.
